Farewell, Stars
by ElZacharie
Summary: After the death of Lucy, Desmond goes through a terrifying transformation. Rated M for much sexiness
1. Dreaming

_Fill for this prompt:_  
_ . ?thread=8747779#cmt8747779_

_Since AC3 just came out, author may like to write about Connor, but any of the assassins (and I mean literally any assassin in the series - including Malik, Rauf, La Volpe, etc) with wings will float my boat._

_Bonus points for: a painful transitions_  
_- Learning how to fly_  
_- trying hto keep them hidden_  
_- and partners being facainated by them_

_First scene inspired by:_  
_ post/38400514621/i-dont-know-why-but-lately-ive-just-been_

_also the second Des/Lucy scene was inspired by that lovely lady with the boobiness okay shh_

_The prompt was already filled (by the OP, who is a freaking amazing author), but it inspired me so much that I had to do my own. I got lazy with the starting smut, but eh i was tired and without meds. Title is from Farewell, Stars by Message to Bears. This is my first AC kmeme/serious fic fill, so be gentle on the hate_

* * *

The only thing that can block out the pain are the dreams about Lucy. Desmond wishes she were there right now, wiping the sweat from his face, and not just a phantom in his mind. Although the drugs numb him into a deep sleep, it all feels so real: his tongue against her entrance, her moans and pleading for more, just a little more, and the touch of her hot skin against his own. His groans of pleasure could be heard in the world outside his dreams, but were always mistaken for that of pain.

"Des-Desmond!" Lucy whimpered, her voice to real once again for this time to be a dream. She sat on top of the original Animus in Abstergo, her shirt ripped open to reveal slightly larger than normal breasts and her legs filled with his head as she was eaten out by him. "Please, Desmond! Give me more!"

His tongue easily found her clitoris, swirling it in his mouth, a shriek ripping from Lucy's throat before she was able to clamp one hand over her mouth, to which Desmond chuckled. The vibrations made her shudder and she leaned over him, grabbing his hair with her free hand and coercing him to go faster.

As he complied, Lucy finally tumbled over the edge and came inside his mouth, whispering something. Desmond pulled away to look at her- he could never get enough of that beautiful face- when she spoke again, words filled with sadness.

"Wake up, Desmond," came Rebecca's voice.

With a scream, Desmond awoke to find himself in pain. When it had begun, it'd been torture, radiating in all of his bones, as if they were shaping themselves into something new. Now, he was left with a pounding migraine and foreign lumps in his back, just along his shoulder blades.

The bed was covered in his own dried blood, the once beautiful sheets that covered him destroyed. Thought the room was dark, the bartender squinted his eyes to study where he was being held. To his left was medical equipment, quietly measuring his heart beat and other things. On his right were... toys. His toys from his childhood, to be exact.

He was in the fucking Farm, he realized a split second after. Those fuckers had somehow brought him back to the Farm.

The door flew open at that exact moment, light flooding into the room. Desmond covered his eyes weakly with his arm, barely able to keep it up. Silhouettes filed inside, wearing radiation suits and surgical scrubs. Everyone in the compound, including him, had been taught how to perform amateur surgery, although some went on to become real doctors (at least, inside the Farm).

A hand took his arm and stuck a needle inside it, causing him to hiss in pain. The needle withdrew and more hands rolled him over. He was too weak to protest as the strangers began to probe at the lumps in his back.

It was only when the lumps began moving against his bones, wriggling against his skin, did Desmond scream.

"Jesus!" a voice whispered in the silence, before pressing a blade to the bulging skin and cutting it open. Desmond screamed again and began thrashing as blood began to quickly gush out, followed by the lumps moving on his bones.

The hands tried to stifle the wound, but something tore past his skin which made the hands give up their hold, instead opting to hold the shrieking man down to lessen the damage. It took several minutes of unimaginable pain for Desmond to fall back into oblivion and the arms of his Lucy.

"Hey, Des?"

"Yeah, Loose?"

"Could you..." Lucy bit her lip as his fingers rubbed against her nipple, hands as cold as ice. "Could you warm your hands up a bit?"

Desmond smirked against her shoulder, letting go of her breasts and rubbing them against the blanket they sat on. Despite the cold weather, Lucy had taken off her shirt and bra for him. She sat in his lap, waist entwined by his legs, and he against the headboard of the bed.

"Anything for you, my warrior princess," he whispered in her ear, one hand returning to her breast. Lucy gave a shaky sigh and leaned back into him, allowing him rub his heel into her crotch. "Anything."

His fingers, now warmer than before, began to tease her nipple, while the other set to work on massaging back. His nose rested on her shoulder, taking in the sweet, rosy scent. Lucy turned her head and caught his nose between her lips, kissing it lightly.

Raising his head, Desmond kissed her deeply, easily sliding his tongue between her open lips. His lover moaned in pleasure as he pinched her nipple, arching her back. Slowly, Lucy flipped them and pushed Desmond onto his back, taking her time to please him.

"No fair," he whispered with a wide grin. Lucy traced the scar on his lip with a single finger, a soft smile on her face as she stared into his eyes.

"Totally fair," she decided after a minute, moving her fingers to unzip his jacket. Desmond felt something against his shoulders and he writhed against the bed, but Lucy took no notice.

The jacket was tossed to the side and she easily removed his shirt, throwing it on top of the other clothes. He felt blissful as she began to rub his shoulder blades, sitting up so that she could reach more easily. It felt as if something was unfurling from his back as he did.

Lucy's screams woke him from his morphine-induced slumber once more.

"What do you mean, it's not Abstergo?" William Miles inquired, hands curled into fists. Shaun and Rebecca had been working for days on end since Desmond had been brought to the Farm, nursed from the brink of death. Something had been triggered inside their friend, and to many variables were at the forefront- until now.

"What I mean, sir," Shaun replied, standing up from his computer so that Rebecca did not have to bother with questions. "There are no signs of this being something of Abstergo engineering."

"But he was captured by them for nearly a year! They must've done something to him," the elder repeated stubbornly, the image of his son being torn apart by those... things still fresh in his mind.

"This is a brand new development, Mr. Miles. The Animus 2.0 was made to detect any signs of Abstergo engineering in Desmond's body- had there been anything wrong with him before we found the Apple, we would've been here months ago." Shaun ran a hand through his hair. "Whatever this is, it must have been the Apple's doing."

Bill stared desperately at Rebecca, who was transfixed by the looping security tape on the screen, then back to Shaun. "What should we do then?" he whispered. "We can just sit idly while my... my son is being killed, mutated."

"Maybe we should cut off the you-know-whats?" Shaun supplied, only to be interrupted by Rebecca's snort before he could offer more.

"Too late for that," she explained when the men turned to her, switching to the screen on her right, filled with pictures of Desmond's anatomy and x-rays. They stood behind her chair, peering at the screen when she began pointing to the photos. "There are huge nerve networks running from them, already connected to the brain. Amputating them now would cause severe brain damage and, in the best case scenario, a coma. Had we known what they were before, we could've dug out the bones when the mounds first appeared.

"Unfortunately, it seems they grow quickly-" she pointed to the next picture, an x-ray showing the foreign appendages. "-and inside the body. Human's aren't made for such physiological changes, and especially not Desmond. But that's not the weirdest part-"

Bill rolled his eyes

"-Desmond's bones began hollowing inside roughly after we found the Apple. We all thought he was just losing weight, so we didn't take too much mind. That's before we found him one night, screaming bloody murder and clawing at his face."

Another picture was brought up, a blurry shot of Desmond seizing in her arms. Even Shaun had a genuine look of disgust on his face; he remembered that night too well and threw up for weeks afterward.

"Finally, I was able to find some journals from the assassin's in Jerusalem, some of them talking about a winged man with black robes who would soar over the skies. They believed it to be the grim reaper, looking for his next prey. I think it may have been Ezio, although his change only came near the end of his life.

"Then, I found Achilles' journals. As it so happens, Connor went through the same thing after he touched his Piece of Eden. He was able to learn to actually fly with them, as Ezio probably did, if rumors are to believed.

"And Altair, oh man, Altair... turns out his metamorphosis happened right after he defeated Al Mualim, according to Malik and Maria's journals. He hid it under his robes and refused to speak of it, focusing most of his studies on his Piece of Eden to find out how to reverse the process. His notes were encrypted, but," Rebecca pulled a document from the mess that she called a desk, and handed it to the men, "I was able to translate them, although it took a long time, and that's what I was able to find out."

"Oh my god," they both whispered in unison.


	2. Waking

"Bill!" a young woman yelled, bursting into the dark room. "Desmond, he's waking up, you have to come. Quickly!"

William did as the woman said, ordering Rebecca and Shaun to follow him with a wave of his hand. The trio ran through the compound and to the room Desmond was being held in, pushing through a crowd of assorted colours and expressions. Many assassins had relocated to the Farm when they heard of Desmond's situation, hoping to give their guidance to their wayward brother and help as much as possible.

When they finally found their way through, Desmond was already constrained by ropes to the bed. The heart monitor was beeping radically, trying to keep up with the speed of his racing heart. This time, the bartender did not thrash around, opting to scan the room with a wide-eyed stare.

Bill ran immediately ran to his son's side while Shaun and Rebecca ran to the other, helping the nurses turning off nonessential machines that would not be needed any longer.

"Dad?" came Desmond's voice, crackling from the lack of water. William took a water bottle from an offering nurse and carefully placed it against his lips, tipping it into his mouth. The young man gulped greedily at the sweet elixir, letting out a soft whine when his father was forced to take it away from him so that he would not choke.

"I'm here, Dessy," his father whispered, taking a hold of his hand. The nurses had removed most of the excess machines, leaving only the heart monitor and IV. Shaun pulled up a chair for Rebecca and stood behind it, arms crossed.

Desmond's gaze turned to Rebecca, and she swore her heart stopped in that moment. The look in his eyes was like the security tape of him, writhing in pain throughout the night, screaming to conciousness and seizing once again, the doctors and guards trying to hold him down...

"Hey there," the bartender croaked, waving his hand weakly at them. "I hope you guys haven't been falling apart without me there. I bet you were dying with impatience while I was dying."

"And, of course, he still has a sense of humor!" Shaun snorts. Rebecca turns to scold him, but stops herself at the sight of his face. A tear is welling in his eye and he bites his lips to choke down a sob.

"Dessy," Bill says softly. "Are you okay? How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine, dad," he replies. "Perfectly fine."

"Bullshit," Rebecca whispered, staring at the floor and fists gripping the knees of her pants. "You were almost dead, Desmond. You were in a coma for months, and whenever you woke up you would immediately have a seizure. You nearly clawed off your own face. Bullshit, you're not fine."

All eyes had fallen on Rebecca, everything so still that they could hear the door squeeze shut and the shuffling of feet as the crowd went back to their duties. She could feel Desmond's gaze boring into her, as if trying to will her away.

"... Really?" was all he said for a while. William began to undo his restraints, confident that his son would not lasp into another seizure. Desmond sat up against the headboard, rubbing the sore flesh of his wrists and ankles. It was as if he hadn't notice the very elephant standing in the room

"Did you guys... figure out what was wrong with me?" Desmond asked cautiously, leaning back.

He was greeted by silence as Bill shakily gave his son the paper he'd been holding the entire time: the entry from Altair's journal.

"Read it," came his father's unsteady voice. Desmond glanced at them all warily, but none would meet his eyes.

"Today, I have finally woken from my slumber," he began reading aloud. The room grew tense around him. "I have been lost for months, but a doctor was able to coax me from my dreaming. Not dreaming, that's not true. Visions. Visions of men facing fate like my own, speaking languages I could not understand. Visions of the future, I can only guess.

"I have these visions in my waking moments, kidnapping me from reality. They are so vivid, and I can't help but imagine I have begun to learn the strange languages of the men I see. 'Essio', 'Cunnor', 'Desmund'... the third is the one I see the most. He is supposedly a prophet, but of what I do not know. If I am right, these men are my descendants. I suppose I should be proud, for they are all destined for greatness, but I can only fear for their lives. They may not be as lucky as I was.

Malik has been studying my new appendages for the past week now, trying to understand where they came from. I can only guess it is the work of the Apple; no human could ever come up with something like this, much less dream of it. They give me the advantage of flight over my enemies, but I hope to never find myself in need of them."

There is the shuffling over paper as Desmond searches for the next page before continuing.

"I have locked myself in my library since Maria's death. My son is the only one able enter the room, but he has given up in his efforts to bring me back outside. I fear my end is near, so I must write quickly:

"The Apple has given me the wings of eagles, fit to my body, and it will do the same for the three men mentioned earlier in my journals. Removing the appendages by force or amputation will kill them, but they seem to have regenerative properties. If wounded, our wings have a sort of ability to shed their feathers and heal themselves. With practice, you will gain the ability of flight and become more versatile in combat.

"My only hope before I die is that my descendants may live through such agony and not waste away as I have."

Desmond looked up from the papers and whispered with horror, "I have wings?"


	3. Flying

To be quite honest, after the initial shock and slight screaming, Desmond liked his new wings. They were tan in color, almost like his own skin, and were tipped with a light gold. When they finally got outside and past the crowd who wanted to touch the feathers (he even pulled a few out for the kids, watching them run along and wave their treasures in the air), his father pulled out a video camera and a notepad.

"What're we doing?" was Desmond's first question as Bill set up the camera and Shaun sat on the ground, turning on a laptop.

"Teaching you to fly," Shaun replied, not looking up at him as he tapped away. "If I'm right, the reason your ancestors lived past their change, despite the dangers of such radical metamorphosis, it's because they were able to harness their new powers or whatever. When we brought you here, we all had to wear radiation suits because you were too dangerous to approach. The same most likely happened to them, too."

Desmond looked to Rebecca, standing next to him. "I was sick for a week when we came here, man."

The bartender sighed, wings folding against him dejectedly. Rebecca took notice and scratched one, causing him to groan with pleasure and lean into her. "Whoa, boy!" she laughed as he nearly fell on top of her. "We should work on that balance, first!"

The group shared a small laugh, Desmond's feathers ruffling as he did so, before silence grew over them. While his father fumbled of the camera and Shaun looked at what he suspected to be historical porn, Rebecca pulled a brush from the bag that Bill had brought and began to smooth out his wings.

Once again, Desmond was drowning in bliss, but this time he was able to keep his balance. This went on for a while until his father's voice interrupted his pleasure.

"The wings seem to be a point of stimulation," Bill spoke into the seperate microphone, aiming the camera lower. "Obviously sexual, if performed long enough. Would suggest only brief touches."

Desmond looked down and jumped as he saw his pants growing tight with a half hard erection. With his cheeks burning furiously, he put his hands in front of his crotch, which were followed by his wings.

"Strange," Bill whispered in the mic as Shaun and Rebecca laughed themselves to tears. "The movements of the new appendages seem to follow that of Desmond's moves and emotions. Like now, they are covering his body while he uses his hands to cover his crotch, and the feathers are puffed out, as if trying to appear larger."

"Can we get on with this already?" Desmond shouted to his father, shifting from foot to foot. His father nodded and looked to Shaun, who began to read out instructions on how to fly.

"Okay, spread out your wings!" he called. "No, more. More than that. All the way out, Desmond. yes, like that. Do you feel the wind? Where? In your feathers, dumbass! Don't laugh, Rebecca, this is not funny. Okay, what you're going to do is- damn it, would you stop making face at the camera and pay attention? Great. Now, what you want to do is flap your wings and try to glive on the wind. Move your wings up and flap if you want to go higher and shift them down to go lower. But not too low or high, Icarus, wouldn't want you getting fried to a crisp or chewed up by a helicopter. Stop laughing and do what I said!"

After a few more minutes and some falls, Desmond was able to lift himself off the ground by several feet. He was feeling quite confident and, thanks to Rebecca's cheering, decide to try his hand at actual flying.

He landed once again and prepared his body to jump (it seemed almost natural to be in such position), wings flapping against the wind roaring in his ears. The cheers and other noises ceased, replaced by concerned stares.

Rebecca screamed Desmond's name when he took off, flying smoothly across the sky, hovering over the cornfields. A crowd gathered outside to watch him, encouraging him to do flips and other tricks he could think of.

It went on like this for a little while, until Desmond got tired and decided to land. He tried what Shaun said and angled his entire body downwards, wings instinctively folding. The crowd cheered and he screamed a "woo hoo" in reply, as the ground rushed towards him.

He tried unfolding his wings to slow down, but the right one refused to do as it was told. Shifting his body slightly, Desmond forced the wing open and crashed. Pain errupted through the left appendage, causing him to scream.

All he saw when he landed were the brown feet of a young boy before him.

"Promise you're not gonna scream again?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die." She even did the motions that went along. God, she was a dork.

Desmond leaned forward from the chair and cautiously spread his new wings out for his girlfriend. Lucy stared with wonder instead of fear, which made him less nervous. The wings responded to that feeling and stretched out to full length, brushing the walls. Lucy squealed and put a hand over her mouth.

"Wanna touch 'em?" he offered with a smile.

Lucy moved her hand from her mouth and whispered, "Are you sure?"

"Hell yeah! Now get over here, beautiful. The boys want to meet you."

She laughed at that (the laugh that made his heart skip a beat) and moved forward, arm outstretched. When her fingers touched the feathers, she pulled away, looking at him to see if he was hurt. Desmond rolled his eyes at her and waved for her to go on. She tried again, this time her touch lingering until it became a scratch. Desmond moaned and thrumped his other wing against a bookcase.

"Well!" Lucy giggled. "Looks like someone's enjoying this!"

Damn right, he was. His pants were unbearably tight around his cock, straining to break free. Lucy scratched harder and Desmond gasped, sticking a hand down his pants to relieve the agonizing heat that had welled between his thighs.

"Hey, don't forget about me, big bird," Lucy chuckled, gripping the edge of his wing.

"Wh-what are you-" Desmond cut himself off with a blood curdling scream as his appendage was torn from his body, the blood leaving his body quickly and pouring onto his girlfriend.

Lucy laughed and laughed as he screamed and screamed.


	4. Falling

"Jesus Christ, Desmond, stop shrieking!"

Desmond's eyes finally opened as Rebecca's hand slapped his mouth shut, forcing him to swallow his screams. There was a numbness in his left wing, which upon further notice, was wrapped in bandages the way one would do to a sprained ankle.

Postive that his screams had stopped, the hand was lifted from his mouth and began to unwrap the bandages around his wing. "I can't believe you were so stupid, Des," Rebecca scolded. "I mean, it was cool that you can fly, but that's not my point. You nearly killed yourself out there, trying to land. Poor Alex was scared shitless when he found you! But that was a really cool flip you did, before you landed, totally wicked."

It went on like this for a while, with a few interruptions when she would ask him how it felt when pulled his wings like this or that. When she was assured that the wing had been fully healed, she let out an exasperated sigh and fell back into a chair beside his bed.

"What I'm trying to say is," Rebecca sighed. "That was really stupid of you. You should've told us what you wanted to do before you decided to take off. It creates more work than it saves, Desmond."

The bartender stretched his wing gingerly, accidentally touching her neck. She giggled and squirmed, so he did it again. It became something of a tickle fight when Rebecca managed to get out of her seat and start tickling his armpits. Their laughter filled the room for what felt like eternity until Rebecca slumped over the exhausted Desmond, gasping for breath.

"Good lord, Des," the technician grinned, turning her head towards his. She had climbed into the bed for a better vantage against him and ended up on the opposite side of him (thank God for queen-sized). "You know how to win a tickle fight, that's for sure."

Desmond would have replied had it not been for the sneaky hand that began scratch the back of his right wing. A moan escaped his lips; damn, she knew all the places to get at.

He felt himself grow hard and lust addle his brain. His hand slipped down pants, just as it did in the dream, only now he was able to seize his dick and begin to stroke it. Rebecca let her nails drag across his feathers slowly, causing a whimper to escape his lips.

"I really liked you when I first met you, Desmond," Rebecca whispered, eyes glazed with sadness. Desmond gasped and writhed as she brought her nails roughly, squeezing his cock with desperation. "Still do. But, I knew you and Lucy liked each other, even if you didn't talk about it... I still knew."

Her fingers played under his feathers as he cupped his balls roughly, treating them with the same cruelty as his member. "When Lucy died... some small part of me was glad. Glad that I could have you all to myself. I still can't get over the guilt of that, but it's true. I wanted to be in Lucy's shoes, to be the face who you saw for the first time coming out of the Animus. I wanted you."

Desmond replied with a sharp inhale, letting go of his balls and grabbing Rebecca's wrist instead. She winced and tried to escape from his grasp, but Desmond folded his wings and rolled onto his side, letting her wrist go just enough so that he could hold her hand.

Maybe it was the lust that was controlling him, the thought she was the closest he would ever get to having Lucy again, or just something else he could not explain, but he pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her ring finger.

"Are you Alex?" The boy nodded furiously, holding a handmade doll to his chest.

Desmond got down to one knee and held out a few feathers from his wings. "These are my luckiest feathers. I want you to have them, okay?" he instructed the boy, then added at his worried look, "Don't worry. They'll grow back. Besides, I'm the luckiest guy there ever was!"

Alex smiled slightly and carefully took the feathers from his hand, his calloused fingers brushing against the older man's. With a lingering glance, Alex ran away delightedly, clutching the feathers to his chest.

Rebecca smiled at Desmond's back as they began walking again, unable to focus at the task at hand. Today, they would reintroduce Desmond back to the Animus and to Connor, his Mohawk ancestor. They were able to get pretty far the last time he was inside Baby, so she was pretty sure today would have the same results.

Once they got to the room and Desmond was strapped into the Animus, Rebecca set Baby to auto-pilot and turned her attention to the video William had recorded yesterday, studying the bartender's movements.

She couldn't help but blush and smile whenever the video looped and showed her scratching his wings, Bill commenting on the sensitivity. Rebecca couldn't help but let her mind wander to an hour ago, when they had been tangled up in Desmond's bed. What was she thinking, trying to hit on a guy who just killed the girl he liked? And that kiss... the hell did that mean? Did he like her back, or was she just their at the right time in the right place?

Still, it didn't help to think that she actually touched his... damn it, his cock! There, she thought it! No need to be embarrassed about it now! She brought him to orgasm by giving him a hand job and what she could only call a wing job.

What was with those wings, though? Those beautiful, sexy wings? She'd never seen anything like it before- hell, almost no one had- but every time they reacted to her, her mind exploded with need. Goddamn, thinking of them now made her hot. What the fuck was wrong with her?

"Rebecca," came Shaun's voice, pulling her from her thoughts. "Time to shut down for the day."

The technician nodded, quickly closing the windows on her screens. Her finger lingered over the security tape she'd watched earlier, unable to get the sight out of her head.


	5. Laughing

He found his son at his mother's grave. William wanted to keep her death a secret, to lie to Desmond as long as he could, but he'd forgotten that he wasn't a child anymore, young and innocent.

They stood shoulder-to-shoulder, just barely touching. Neither of them made any move to comfort the other, although both could see the crippling shame that clouded their faces. Only the wind spoke, carressing their cheeks with chilling fingers.

"We should get back."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Their voices came together and hushed in unison. Both men refused to speak again, but Bill could see his son's wings ruffle with anger. The wind whistled, as if trying to join their conversation.

"I'm sorry," Bill tried weakly.

"Is that all you have to say?" Desmond whispered, voice filled with anger. "You're sorry? For what? For letting mom die alone while you were running off on your little templar hunt? For never saying you loved her or me? For never being there when we needed you most?"

Desmond stared at his father with accusatory eyes, and William could not help but think he deserved such blame.

"Sorry ain't gonna cut it, dad."

With that, Desmond turned on his heel and traced his steps back to the Farm. His father made no move to stop him, and, once he was out of his line of sight, crumpled to the ground and sobbed.

"How long have I been dead?"

The question surprised him, but he knew it would've come eventually. Desmond and Lucy lay on the couch, staring at the walls with a peaceful look. Lucy was on his bare chest, tracing little circles into the sin.

"I don't know," he replied honestly.

"How did I die?" came her whisper.

Silence spanned between them and time seemed to stand still. Desmond sighed and said, "I killed you."

"Why?"

"Minerva made me do it."

"What a bitch." They grinned at each other, let their expressions fade into sad smiles. Silence filled the room once more, something Desmond found himself, for once, content with.

"You have to let me go, Desmond," Lucy whispered again, resting her chin on his chest.

"To the bathroom?" he joked, despite his heart tearing in his chest.

"Don't be stupid," she scolded half-heartedly. "You know what I mean."

"Can't I have you for a little longer?" Desmond pleaded, squeezing her body. It felt as she was becoming etheral, slipping from between his fingers.

"No, Desmond, you can't."

"Rebecca, wait up!" Shaun called to the technician as she headed to her room. He had been running around the compound looking for her and was already out of breath. Rebecca stopped for him, a distant look on her face.

When Shaun finallly caught up to her, he pushed a file into her hand. "It's about Lucy," he gasped. "I'm so sorry."

With that, he ran off in the other direction.

She wasn't sure what it was all about, but decided to look at the files anyway. It must've been important, otherwise Shaun would've saved his time and sent her an email.

Carefully opening the door, Rebecca sneaked into Desmond's room and sat herself at her usual chair. She'd taken it upon herself to watch him each night in case he were to lasp into another seizure, but she was lying to herself. She really just wanted to watch him sleep, so similar to the way he was inside the Animus.

With quiet movements, the technician scanned the papers, emails and reports by Lucy. There soon came to light a pattern in the words, overwhelming her to the point she threw the papers to the ground and sobbed quietly in her hands.

There was movement in the room, but Rebecca refused to lift her head to see who it could be. Strong arms pulled her up from the chair and placed her on the bed, tucking her under the sheets. The body slipped in behind her, holding her in its arms as a wing pressed against her body.

"Desmond?" Rebecca whispered. Desmond squeezed her stomach. "I'm so sorry, Desmond."

"Why?"

"Lucy... Lucy was a Templar agent..."

"I see." His voice showed no distress, causing a sob to rise from her throat before she could cover her mouth. The wing covering their bodies pressed against her cheek, tickling her skin.

With steady hands, Desmond turned her body so that they were face-to-face. Rebecca stared into his eyes, looking for some sign of the pain and hurt she was feeling. Instead, she found him smiling.

"Why aren't you angry?" she murmured. He shrugged.

"Why aren't you happy?" was his reply.

Somehow, their lips found each other, and all the thoughts and memories of the last few months were wiped away. Desmond climbed on top of her, wings unfolding to full length, and wrapped his arms and legs around her. Rebecca could feel his erection press against her thigh as their lips pressed together once more, and, as if to torture her even further, the heel of his wrist dug into her crotch, eliciting a sultry moan.

"Not fair," she gasped as their lips broke apart. Desmond chuckled, a dark look in his eyes.

"I dunno, I'm tryin' to stay pretty vanilla here," he whispered, pulling down her pants and underwear. "But you... I've seen how you've looked at my wings. Never pegged you as someone to be kinky like that."

She tried to come up with a retort, but ended with only a whine when he pulled himself away from her and got off the bed, throwing her pants and underwear to a corner of the room. He positioned himself on the edge of her side of the bed, gently grabbing her ankles and pulling her towards him.

Just as she opened her mouth to protest, the elbow of one wing pressed against her clitoris, her words dissolving into high pitched whimpers. Desmond chuckled deeply and one half-lidded glance told her that he was grinning his ass off.

Rebecca resolved that she would wipe that smile off his holy shit it felt so fucking good she so near but she didn't want it to end not now, not ever. He started massaging her hips and she bucked into his wing, gasping as feathers got caught in her entrance.

He pulled one hand away and guided her own hands to his unoccupied wing, moving her fingers across the feathers until she finally began moving them herself, clawing roughly. Desmond groaned and pounded his wing into her, stroking his cock as they both quickly neared orgasm.

Rebecca came first, spilling herself all over his beautiful wing. When their eyes met, she looked apologetic until Desmond began cleaning her juices off, not breaking eye contact the entire time. When he finished, she grabbed his arm and pulled him into the bed. She pressed him down with strong, calloused hands, freed his erection, and began to suck him off.

"Oh, God," he whispered. "Just like that, just like fucking that."

Her beautiful lips kissed his shaft and took in only his head as he let his orgasm go, letting out a bird-like chirp. He could feel Rebecca laughing around his member, but that only made him cum harder. She swallowed and climbed into the bed with him, taking off the rest of her clothes.

Despite the entire experience, Desmond could not get Lucy's voice out of his head.


	6. Crying

"I cannot fucking believe you! You steaming pile of shit!"

Lucy's voice rang in his ears, despite the hands that covered them. She screamed his name, knocking down a lamp in her path. She paced the room, back and forth, until Desmond had to close his eyes from dizziness.

"You're not real," he whispered to himself. "You're not real, this is just a dream."

But was it a dream? He could hear every noise that echoed in the small space, every movement and every breath she made. Every night since that night with Rebecca, his dreams became waking nightmares, haunting him wherever he went. He was going insane, and everyone could see it. They had him locked in his room whenever he wasn't needed and no one but Rebecca talked to him, and even then she could only pass notes about what she did during the days and little doodles of birds she saw.

"Are you fucking listening to me?" Lucy cried, tears falling down her cheeks. "You slept with my best fucking friend!"

Not real, not real, not real, he repeated in his head.

"And in the same motherfucking bed we sleep in, no less," she continued, tearing down the posters and pictures from the walls. "I am going to kill that slut! Then, I'm going to have sex with other men while you watch! How will that make you fucking feel?"

His wings curled around his body, trying to keep out the chill that threatened him from within. His entire shook, the bed rattling beneath him. He sat in a fetal-like position, eyes watching Lucy's body (no ghost it's just a ghost Desmond it's not real) rampage through the room. At random moments, visions of Lucy having sex with other men (so many men so little time) flashed before him, taking her from all sorts of positions.

"Don't you fucking hide from me, you jackass!" Lucy screamed in his face. "You know what you fucking did, so why don't you just fucking accept it, huh?"

Not real not real not fucking real.

His wings wrapped closer to his body like a cocoon as he began to rock himself back and forth there was someone banging on the door it amplified in his ears why must they disturb us we were having such a nice day would you like to join us for tea and apples apples apples oh god the fucking apples they were everywhere he couldn't get away from them now they were pulling him down tying him up and he was thrown into Lucy's mouth his sweet precious darling darling precious Lucy no no no they broke through the door they were holding him down down down her throat he went until he landed in her stomach acid when he was a kid they told him the templars were his greatest enemies no no he just wanted to see the world he didn't believe in their conspiracies so much pain pain everywhere why were they trying to hold him down no please don't I'm okay imokayokayokay Rebecca his poor sweet precious darling Rebecca WHAT WERE THEY DOING TO HIM she was brushing his hair why was she doing that no she's brushing his feathers he has wings he didn't know that my name is Ezio Auditore da Firenze my best friend is Leonardo da Vinci no it's Altair ibn-La'ahd I married to Maria Thorpe no my name is Connor Connor I hate my father he is a Templar I am in Abstergo my name is Desmond Miles I was captured by my Lucy oh god my Lucy there she is no she is burning PLEASE LET ME GO LUCY SHE NEEDS ME fire fire fire everywhere there was fire

and then came the darkness.

Bill rubbed the back of his neck as Shaun helped Rebecca relieve the radiation from her body into the trashcan. The technician had burst into his son's room and attempted to strap Desmond down before anybody else was able to come and help her. The elder assassin didn't question how she knew or how she'd gotten to his room so quickly, only grateful that she'd been there to help him.

It took a while for the vomiting to secede, and even then Rebecca looked like she was about to relapse into another session. Shaun led her to the bed she'd been sleeping on, helping her fall weakly onto it.

"So, Rebecca," Shaun began, voice barely a whisper. "Did you go over the papers I gave you?"

She nodded, closing her eyes and holding her stomach as it rumbled.

"And I take it you told Desmond the news?"

Another nod.

"Did he take it badly? Is that why he's sick again?"

She shook her head no.

"Have you seen anything strange in your security tapes?"

Rebecca cleared her throat and explained, in a raspy voice, the nightmares he'd been having and the strange readings showing up on her charts. "The night I slept with him, he didn't scream at all. He was peaceful. It wasn't until the next day he started freaking out, muttering to himself."

"Let me interrupt you there," Bill spoke up, leaning forward. "You say slept with him as in slept in his bed with him in it or...?"

The guilty glance she gave the man ratted her out.

"Jesus!" Shaun exclaimed, disgusted. "Rebecca, how could you! He just found out the girl he liked was a Templar just after he killed her!"

"I know, I know," she whispered, placing a hand against her burning forehead. "It's just... I dunno what came over me. He looked so lonely, I wanted to keep him company. Things escalated and... I told him how I felt."

Shaun sighed and William made no sound nor movement, but she could easily see the scowl on his face if she squinted.

"Anyways," Shaun murmured, mostly to himself. "I'm going to look into this radioactive problem. See if it's anything we should worry about, and, if so, for how long."

Rebecca nodded as sleep closed her heavy eyelids.

It was midnight when little Alex left his bedroom and ran silently to the cornfields, near the spot he found the winged man when he crashed. In his hands the boy held a handmade doll that looked sort of like a wolf.

When he reached the spot, Alex stopped himself and sat between the cornstalks. His hand grabbed the wolf's head and twisted, opening to reveal a sort of communication device. A few buttons were pressed and a screen appeared, revealing a tired old man's face.

"Well?" the man snapped. Alex nodded with a smirk and the man smiled back, an upleasant sight to behold.

"The target is currently comatose due to the drug I gave him. The compound is currently occupied with trying to wake him, but only I have the antidote. Not sure why I can't kill him, though," the boy added with a mutter.

"Because he is a valuable asset in finding the Pieces of Eden!" The young boy rolled his eyes but nodded.

"I await further instructions."

"We march at dawn."

The comm signal cut before anyone could trace the call. That is, anyone but a technical expert.


End file.
